


Sentenced

by Mx_Dragon



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:02:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24010063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mx_Dragon/pseuds/Mx_Dragon
Summary: A collection of 50 one-sentence drabbles based on the LJ community 1sentence challenge table, theme set Gamma. Originally published under the name screamer1234 sometime between six and ten years ago.
Relationships: Alessa Gillespie & Claudia Wolf, Cheryl Mason & Harry Mason, Eileen Galvin/Henry Townshend, Harry Mason/James Sunderland, Pyramid Head/James Sunderland, Walter Sullivan/Henry Townshend
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Sentenced

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [1sentence challenge table; theme set Gamma](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/615571) by slytherinblack. 



#01 - Ring  
The tiles were cold, but the eerie red sigils squirming out from the hole were warm.

#02 - Hero  
_I’m supposed to be the hero,_ Henry thought, as best he could— _So why, why does it feel so good to be his prey?_

#03 - Memory  
Monsters, murders, phone calls, rust, gore, _Claudia,_ everything terrifies her, but so much worse is the tug that just keeps getting stronger, the tendrils climbing from the bottom of her mind to touch her behind the eyes, the things she remembers, the insistence of— _no please no more no MORE_ —of a little girl, short, black hair, about seven years old.

#04 - Box  
The wooden box was small, and old, and stained; Henry wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was inside.

#05 - Run  
He could have stayed by, could have fought, raised his pipe and gun, interjected his very body between her and death—could have done so many things—but what he did was run.

#06 - Hurricane  
The wind was so strong on the Water Prison roof; it whipped the warmth from Walter’s starved young body until his teeth chattered, as he followed Andrew tamely—and thought, suddenly, like a rush of that wind: _I think I deserve a fucking coat._

#07 - Wings  
He’d always wanted to see an angel; perhaps that was why he hauled himself onto that metal frame, gathered black feathers and slowly, slowly, worked them into place.

#08 - Cold  
His Tormentor’s slimy, latex-gloved hands are cold on his hot, vulnerable flesh; James trembles, wishes they were warmer, and abruptly—they are.

#09 - Red  
White with fear, Henry was so alluring, but the color that looked best on him was red, red, _red._

#10 - Drink  
“Heeenryyy…” drawled Walter, “Whyzza Mom spinnin’ round and roun’…?”

#11 - Midnight  
It may or may not have been midnight when the lights went out and the darkness murmured, “Henry…you’re it.”

#12 - Temptation  
Walter watched Henry, sleeping, stir—shivered, and wondered if he had not named his sacrifices wrong.

#13 - View  
Richard Braintree wondered, briefly, if Walter and Henry knew just how good of a view his window gave him into the bedroom of Room 304.

#14 - Music  
Laura frowned; “No, that’s not right at all,” she muttered, and began again.

#15 - Silk  
Henry might have said that Eileen’s hair and skin were like silk, but they weren’t—they were like hair and skin, and that was even better, because a little humanity was what he needed.

#16 - Cover  
Walls yawned, halls inverted, sick flesh peeled back—even in the fog-choked forest, Henry could not hide, because the wilderness would part and let its master find him. 

#17 - Promise  
“So we’ll always be together, right?” asked Claudia; Alessa grinned and nodded—“Forever!”

#18 - Dream  
He didn’t mean to frighten Henry, honest he didn’t; but it was so, so, _so_ hard not to dream of him that way.

#19 - Candle  
The wax ran, seared, flesh and past flesh, chased angels back and let murderers’ minds be their own, (mostly, mostly, for a while); Walter allowed himself to moan, quietly, and tipped the Holy Candle further over his wrist.

#20 - Talent  
He wasn’t a very good shot, that was obvious—but then, Harry thought bitterly, he’d have plenty of time to practice.

#21 - Silence  
Cybil, Lisa, Dahlia, _Kaufmann,_ it didn’t matter—Harry talked to anyone who’d listen, and it was less and less about Cheryl, and more and more about how quiet it was.

#22 - Journey  
“Eileen!” he yelled; “Dad…” she wept; “Mary,” he sighed; “Cheryl!” he called; and, as four and one, they moved their weary feet.

#23 - Fire  
Fire did not bother Angela; it was her home now, in the way nothing else quite had been.

#24 - Strength  
He fought, of course; James always fought, with all the fear he had, but he always found himself guilty and bending, further, under cold metal and colder strength—bending, bleeding, so much harder until he broke in those cold gloved hands, and by then he couldn’t tell if he was broken, because he was so, so bent.

#25 - Mask  
She was Mary, he knew it—if he could just—get this _face_ off—

#26 - Ice  
If Hell froze over, Vincent thinks, it would look a lot like this.

#27 - Fall  
No matter what anyone does, or even what they’ve done, Alessa observes—it’s impossible that they don’t slip, don’t fall, and that there’s not a pit waiting for them.

#28 - Forgotten  
Walter had never been touched like that before, never had someone kiss him or hold him or comb warm, strong fingers through his lank hair; but somehow, when Henry did it, it felt like he had only forgotten.

#29 - Dance  
Her feet on his feet, her little fingers laced with his large ones, Harry used to dance with Cheryl, in that way little girls dance with their fathers…and he’d be damned, to a Hell a lot worse than this one, if he was going to let some crazy old bitch and grungy-titted demon take that away from him.

#30 - Body  
It was so easy to forget that the people he killed were real—yes, yes, their bodies were warm and Sacrament and bled like ruined peaches, but they were only _bodies,_ the rotten-flesh door, the creature stair of twenty-one steps, the stale bread and the sour wine; and it was too easy to forget them, while Her angel beat its so-real wings inside him.

#31 - Sacred  
No matter how many candles he lit, no matter how much gleaming saint-silver he wore to save himself, that heavy hand on his shoulder crumbled everything.

#32 - Farewells  
“So…uh, this is my stop,” said James, hesitantly, and he stepped off the UFO—only to stomp back up the metal gangplank, plant a wet, hurried kiss squarely to Harry’s astonished mouth, and run back down before the other man could say a word.

#33 - World  
_This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong wrong wrongwrong—_ Walter thought, but his Receiver just felt so good, and after all, this world was his; why shouldn’t he make the rules?

#34 - Formal  
Walter’s carefully cultured, enunciated purr was so infuriating, and suddenly Henry wanted to slam that zombie bastard to the wall and do such terribly impolite things to him until he slurred.

#35 - Fever  
He burned all over, searing, charring, licking, too hot to be Hell, too Heaven to be anything but; James whined and strained up for more.

#36 - Laugh  
Walter’s mouth twitched; then he laughed out loud, and it was a real laugh, not for sadism or death, but simply at something Henry had said.

#37 - Lies  
“Are you…still going to…to kill me…” Henry panted; Walter kissed him deep, said nothing for a long time, then shook his head.

#38 - Forever  
“How long?” James moaned, and at the single rumbling word of response, he could not help but cry out again.

#39 - Overwhelmed  
Walter would have liked to say something— _I love you,_ perhaps, or just _Henry_ —but forming words had become really, really difficult.

#40 - Whisper  
The red helmet bent; it did not speak, only whispered, and that made the words somehow even more obscene.

#41 - Wait  
James was gone, but the two realer-than-real did not pace or fret; he would come back to them, on his own battered feet, again, and again, and again.

#42 - Talk  
“I’m looking for—” Harry started, but Kaufmann was already gone.

#43 - Search  
“I’ve got to find her, got to find her, got to got to got to…” James mumbled to himself; he did not notice his words echo off the ash in a voice much, much older.

#44 - Hope  
Hope was everything, what kept him fighting and running and standing and breathing, but sometimes he wondered if he hoped only because he’d finally gone insane.

#45 - Eclipse  
Oh, fuck, not them again, thought Harry.

#46 – Gravity  
Mass infinite, diameter zero; what is the difference between falling and being pulled?

#47 – Highway  
As Travis touched the gas and eased his truck back onto the road, he did not see how the fog trawled ghostly fingers after him, briefly, through the warm air.

#48 - Unknown  
“Only one way to find out,” Henry said aloud, and pulled himself up into the hole.

#49 - Lock  
As hard as he thought about Mary, there was something he just couldn’t remember—as if in his mind lay a locked door, red painted so: _Don’t go out._

#50 – Breathe  
Given everything else Henry had seen, it shouldn’t have surprised him that as he drifted off to sleep, Walter began, beside him, to breathe.

(Bonus)  
James was falling, was waiting to fall, waiting and falling all at once, all along; Silent Hill just gave him a place to fall to, through, and reminded him to do so.


End file.
